Stamina
by and she knew love
Summary: "Sleeping together - it would be odd if we didn't," she says. His brain effectively short-circuits.  Spoilers for the upcoming elevator episode!


**A/N:** I know, I know. It's been literally forever since I last updated, or at least it feels like it. I'm so sorry for the lack of updates of any kind, and I blame it on how massively uninspired I've been feeling lately. But, the last episode coupled with the promo (what a promo!) seriously kicked my butt into gear, so here this is for you. Spoilers for the next episode with the elevator scene.

P.S. I know I've already written an elevator scene, but I couldn't help myself. Too much stuff in the promotional video to resist.

Enjoy!

* * *

Getting stuck in an enclosed space with Bones is nothing short of an exercise in self-restraint. He's kind of glad there's literally a wall of stadium chairs between them, because she's just looking too damn good for any innocent thoughts on his part.

It gets worse when she figures out that all she has to do is kind of scrunch up, squirm a bit (lifting up her shirt so he can see her bare stomach!), and slide on the elevator floor for a little ways to make it under the seats and onto his side. She's too close for comfort, but hey—he's handled her this close before. _Come on, Seeley, grow up._ _You're not seventeen anymore._

With her next words, he might as well be. The moment she opens her mouth and says, so matter-of-factly, "Sleeping together—it would be odd if we didn't," all he can manage in return is, "Right."

Right. Sleeping together. Good idea.

_Huh? _

"We both have excellent stamina."

_What? _

"Making love would be quite satisfying."

What the _hell._

All right. That's it. His brain short-circuits, and for a long, dumb moment, he can't do more than stare at her as the prospect of tumbling together in bed makes its way through his head. It isn't the first time Bones has insinuated something between them, but it's the first time he can remember her being so direct about it. And it's the first time she hasn't used multisyllabic words to explain it either, which makes him shake his head a bit in dazed amazement.

"Booth? Why are you staring at me like that?"

He realizes he's staring and smiling like an idiot. Well, pretty good for a guy who's had his brain fried. He's a little surprised he's not salivating.

He clears his throat hurriedly and says, his throat just a bit dry, "Care to repeat that, Bones?"

She pauses in confusion and says again, more slowly this time, "Making love would be quite satisfying. Did you understand me that time?"

He swallows. "Perfectly."

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Well? Do you have a response?"

Does he have a _response? _Oh yeah. Yeah. Options A and B have been instantly thrown out the window, because they both involve getting her out of those confining clothes _right now_ and ravaging her in full view of whoever the hell comes down the stairs in the next…oh, however long it takes for him to maul her (with her complete assent, may he add!). Option C is to very calmly pretend that she hasn't said anything. Option D is to continue gawking at her until some more intelligent answer comes to him. He isn't able to manage anything at the moment but Option D.

She smiles. "Was that unexpected?"

"_Unexpected?"_ he echoes. "Well—well, _yeah._" He didn't wake up in the morning expecting to get stuck in an elevator with Bones and talking about _making love._ Breaking the laws of physics and all that entails.

She averts her gaze, suddenly uncertain. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend to make you uncomfortable."

"No, no," he says hurriedly, but he's at a complete loss beyond that. What do you _say_ to something like that?

"So…" She clears her throat and pins him with her gaze again.

"So," he repeats, then licks his lips. A coherent question finally pops to mind, and he asks, hardly able to believe he's actually asking _Bones_ this, "Are you—are you _offering?_"

Now _she's_ uncomfortable. Her cheeks heat ever-so-slightly, and she averts her eyes again. "It's…logical."

Of course it is. It's always logical. The world will end the day something irrational comes out of Bones' mouth. He smiles gently at her, struggles for a second to get his libido under control, and then says as steadily as he can manage, "Yeah, it'd be odd if we didn't, wouldn't it?"

She returns his smile. "It would."

Can she hear how his heart is throwing itself back and forth in his chest? For one thing, she's _way_ too close for him to think clearly. For another, she just told him that they'd be good in bed together. They have excellent _stamina_, for God's sake. And she expects him to say…what exactly?

He clears his throat again uncomfortably, just to break the silence. Bones doesn't say anything else and doesn't look like she _wants_ to say anything else, but then again, what does he expect? For her to set a _date?_ 'All right, Booth, how does Thursday sound to you? Would you be ready to make love then?' He'll probably pass out if she says anything like that.

Finally, she shrugs oh-so-casually, like they've been talking about another case and nothing more. "Anyway, I was just thinking about it."

"Right." He blows out a breath. "Okay."

She fidgets then, betraying just how uncomfortable she is. He figures this is probably as awkward for her as it is for him. Good to know that he isn't the only one who can't quite think straight at the thought of himself plus Bones plus a bed.

"So, Booth…"

He inhales again to steady himself. Some more neurons fire, and he remembers exactly why it isn't a good idea. "No, Bones."

She stops shifting instantly, eyes snapping up to meet his. "What?"

"No," he repeats, more firmly this time. "As…logical as it is, I'm not going to. _We're_ not going to."

Hurt flashes across her face briefly before she manages to wrestle her expression back under control. Pulling her sweater tighter around her body, she turns away from him and stares out of the elevator. "Well," she says stiffly, "is it because—well, because you don't find me attractive?"

_Because he doesn't find her—?_

He's up and across the elevator to her side in an instant, spinning her around and giving in to the temptation he's fought against almost since the day he met her. She's tense as a wire against him, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care because kissing Bones leaves absolutely no room for extraneous thought beyond the _feel_ of her. He presses his lips hard against hers, hard but somehow gently too, and there's that swell of hot, roaring emotion that he has never felt with any other woman.

And then her arms are up and around his neck, and she's pressing back with a fervor that makes him dizzy. There's a point where seven years of sexual tension between two people is too much, and, Booth thinks, they've reached it. They've blown way past it, and self-restraint is nowhere to be found with Bones pressed so tightly against the length of his body and her lips on his. Her fingers are tangled in his hair, one hand is tugging on his tie, and he's lost, completely, totally—

They break apart with a gasp to take a deep breath, and Booth has enough of his wits about him to throw up his hand to keep her from reaching for him again. "Stop. Bones, _stop._"

She pauses in place, her expression frustrated. One hand is frozen in place loosening his tie. "What, Booth?"

He takes a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. "All right, Bones, listen. You're gorgeous, okay? You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Don't doubt that. Don't ever doubt that."

She frowns, her brow furrowing in the most adorable way that makes him want to kiss the line—

He takes a breath. _Stop that, Seeley. Focus. _

"So you _are_ attracted to me," she says.

"You've always known that," he replies.

"Then why can't we—"

"Because," he interrupts, taking a breath. "Because, Bones—"

She gives his tie a tug, effectively cutting off that train of thought. He kind of chokes a bit, grabs her hand to keep her from pulling again, and carefully extricates her fingers from the silk. "Bones," he says carefully, "let's not do that."

She flashes him a teasing grin that makes him groan. "Why, Booth? Am I distracting you?"

Is it just him, or is she being more _flirty_ than usual?

He coughs to hide the sudden flush suffusing his cheeks. "Yeah, Bones, you're kind of _distracting_ me." She yanks again, and he grabs her hand with a growl. "Stop it, Bones! Let's just—talk. Okay?"

Her teasing smile fades. "About what?"

He takes a careful step back and tightens his tie again (anything to keep her from tearing his clothes off, at this point). "About what you said. Let's just breathe for a second."

"_You're_ the one who kissed _me_," she mutters, leaning back against the elevator gates.

Exhaling slowly through his nose, Booth decides that that was probably a bad idea. Some part of his mind (the larger part of his mind) that would really like to rip that sweater off Bones can't help but disagree. But he needs to keep himself under control, at least until they get the hell out of the elevator, because there's more to it than a kiss. There's more to _them._

"All right, Bones, listen." He catches her eyes and smiles slightly. "I want to do this right, okay?"

"Do what?" she asks automatically.

"Making love," he explains carefully, "isn't something you do on the fly. You can't just jump into it. It's something special, Bones."

"I know that," she replies evenly. "You taught me that."

"Right. So, Bones, we can't make love just—just like _that._ There's a right way to do things."

She frowns. "Like what?"

"Like…like having a date." He nods and tries to keep his eyes away from that adorable crinkle between her eyes. "People have dates first, you know? And you get to know each other. And you…well, you _love_ each other."

Instantly, he realizes his mistake. At the mention of _love_, Bones' expression shutters, and she gives him a guarded look. "Love?" A couple of seconds go by as she obviously processes the thought. Then her eyes harden slightly, and she says coolly, "That's right. We would have to _love_ each other, isn't that right?"

The implication, which he hears all-too-clearly, is that they _don't_. They don't love each other.

But he _does_ love her_. _Always has, always will.

"That's not what I meant," he protests, shaking his head. "What I mean is, we can't just hop into it without thinking things through, Bones. It doesn't work that way."

"Then how _does_ it work, Booth?" she asks, crossing her arms. She's giving him that angry-look-hidden-behind-a-non-expression that drives him mad.

"I…" Is she asking him to map out a hypothetical relationship? Is he supposed to ask her out on a date? How have things even _gotten_ this far?

Okay. Restart.

"What I _mean_," he tries again, "is that—you and I, Bones, we're so much more than the physical. We always have been. And if and when we decide to try for something more, we're going to do it right, okay? We're going to do it slow and steady so we don't mess anything up, because you deserve the perfect relationship."

He takes a step towards her and, against his better judgment, takes her hand. "If and when it happens, I'm going to ask you on a date. We're going to go to some fancy restaurant that will probably have me eating the cheapest takeout possible for at least two months. We're going to go on a dozen dates. We're going to eat ice cream together on the steps of the Jeffersonian, we're going to go bowling with Parker, and we're going to figure everything out just right, because we're us and we always figure things out."

His eyes are caught on hers now, caught in that bright, clear gaze that entranced him from the start. Her eyes are slightly narrowed at him, but she isn't saying anything so he presses on, barely aware of what he's saying at this point.

"And when we're ready," he says quietly, his eyes darting down to her lips, "when we're both ready, I'll take you up to my apartment. I'll have a romantic dinner planned out, but we probably won't touch it because you are just too damn gorgeous to wait for. I'll kiss you like…like…"

He can't explain in words, so he shows her, just kisses her like they're actually in his apartment and they've gone on a dozen dates. Like they're both ready. He kisses her with his eyes closed and leans her back against the wall, trying to show her exactly what he means and what he feels.

"Like that," he gasps eventually, breaking off. She's breathing hard too, her eyes wide, and he's so shaky with desire that he can barely focus on what he's saying or doing anymore. "I'll kiss you like that, and then I'll get you out of all these clothes and I'll lean you back against my bed. And then—"

He stops, mesmerized by the pull of her expression, the way her lips are slightly parted, the way her breath comes in quiet shallow gasps, the way her eyes are bright and dark all at once.

"And then?" she whispers, both hands on his chest, so warm.

He lets out his breath in a whoosh, so, so in love in that moment that he can barely stand it. "And then we make love, Bones. And then we make love."

God, she's beautiful, and she's staring up at him with the biggest, softest eyes he's ever seen in his life, and he suddenly can't _not_ kiss her. He bends down and presses his lips hard against hers for the third time in an hour, pressing her so close to him that he's surprised they really haven't broken the laws of physics and fused together, and all he wants to do now is yank the elevator doors open, sweep her off her feet, and carry her to his bed.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs jerks him violently out of the moment, and he recoils with all the force of a tightly-wound spring, staring down at her with wide eyes.

What the hell is he _doing?_

Distance himself. That's his first thought.

"And," he says shakily, taking a quick step away from her, "and that's how it works." Nonchalant, like he's been in control this whole time. Like he hasn't meant every single word he said and every single kiss he gave her.

Her chest is heaving, and she stares at him with equally-wide eyes, like she can't believe what just happened. Hell, he can hardly believe it either, but he forces himself to look calm, to look _in control._

"Hey, guys," Sweets says cheerfully, a bag of popcorn in his hand, "are you…" A glance at both of them makes him stop on the stairs, eyes narrowed. The psychologist looks at each of them in turn, then eyes the obvious space between them. "Is this a bad time?" he asks finally.

Booth shakes his head vehemently. "Nope. Perfect timing." Perfect timing for keeping a certain FBI special agent from majorly jumping the shark.

"Okay," Sweets says slowly, still eyeing them both. He carefully hands down the bag of popcorn and says, "Just in case you're hungry."

"Yeah, thanks," Booth says, taking the bag. Bones doesn't look like she's up for much talking at the moment (her cheeks are still adorably red—_no, don't think on it_), and she just nods her head in thanks but doesn't move toward the food.

Sweets clears his throat in the awkward silence, and Booth can just _tell_ the kid's about to turn the moment into a therapy session. He's in the middle of narrowing his eyes and preparing a sharp retort when the elevator suddenly hums to life and jerks into motion. Beside him, Bones stumbles at the sudden movement, and he catches her arm to steady her. He sees Sweets leap back just before the elevator passes upwards and the psychologist disappears from view.

"Finally," Booth mutters, both relieved at the prospect of escaping Sweets and escaping the confined space. He doesn't have much self-control left at this point, and if Bones shoots him just one more wide-eyed look, he's going to lose it.

They manage to lever the stadium seats out of the elevator, and by the time Sweets runs up the stairs, the seats are already on their way down the hall to Booth's apartment. With the three of them, they half-carry, half-drag the chairs into Booth's living room, where Sweets promptly tells them he's getting the hell out of there. He's had enough, what with running up and down the stairs two dozen times for the case, and he's going home to Daisy. Booth is half-glad, half-panicked to see him go. After all, who's supposed to keep him in check now that he's alone with Bones?

The door closes, and Bones turns hesitantly to look at him. "Booth?"

He clears his throat and averts his gaze, pretending to fiddle with a sticker on one of the blue chairs. "Yeah?"

"You want us to have more than a sexual relationship then?"

Oh, God yes. He's wanted her forever, and not just because she can turn his head on a street any day. He closes his eyes briefly and lets out a breath. "Yeah, Bones. That's what I want."

"That's what you meant then?" she presses. "In the elevator, I mean. You don't want us to have sex because it would be meaningless without the solid foundation of a romantic relationship."

"It would," he echoes, wondering where she's going with this. She's chipping away at his already-questionable self-control every time she mentions them making love, and he doesn't think he can take much more.

"I agree," she says simply.

_That_ has him staring slack-jawed at her for a second. After a bit of spluttering, he manages admirably, "_What?_"

"I agree," she repeats. "There is a difference between emotional and physical relationships, and…and if we were to engage in a personal relationship, I would…logically want both."

"Logically," he says dumbly, still stunned. Is she…does she _want_…?

With _him? _

"So," she says slowly, looking straight at him, partly nervous but partly brave at the same time. "So I think it would only be logical for us to try."

"Right," he says, his mouth dry.

"You said that when we were both ready, we would do it right." She hesitates for a brief moment before continuing. "Can we…could we maybe…"

Try? Can they try?

Yes. Of course. Of _course_ they can try. But…

"When we're both ready, Bones," he says at last. "I don't know about you, but right now, I'm just…I'm not ready to handle another relationship, okay? It doesn't mean I don't want to. I just can't…I can't." Not so soon after Hannah, not so soon after all that has happened.

To his relief, she nods understandingly and even flashes him a small smile. "I know. I don't think I can do it right now either. But…"

He takes her hand and squeezes it. "But when we're ready."

She smiles at him, and he's suddenly afraid that words won't be enough, won't be enough to contain them both, two normally independent, naturally defensive people. What if this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing? What if it blows over and they just keep going on like this never happened at all?

"Let's make it official," he suggests with a grin, pulling her over to his coffee table. "You see that candle over there on the mantle? Could you grab it and the matches in the top drawer over there?"

Clearly puzzled, she does as he asks, and he digs out a couple of pieces of paper and two pens. When she sits down beside him on the couch, he lights the candle and sets it in the middle of the table.

"Write it down on paper," he tells her, handing her a pen. "A promise. And then we'll burn it to make it official, see?"

She gives him a skeptical look, shaking her head. "Burning a piece of paper makes a promise? That's illogical, to say the least. Also, it presents a fire hazard."

"Bones, burn the damn promise, okay?" he says, giving her an exasperated but affectionate smile. That said, he turns back, scribbles down his own promise, and folds it in half. She finishes soon after, and they both hold it up to the candle flame, watching as their words are sealed forever in smoke and fire.

"Booth?" she asks quietly, once the promises are gone.

He looks over at her, enjoying how the candlelight reflects off her eyes. "Mhm?"

She leans her head on his shoulder, staring at the candle. "What if I can't make it? What if I can never reach the point where I'm ready for more?"

He puts his arm around her and kisses her head, because he's bold enough in the aftermath of the elevator ride. "Come on, Bones, don't say that. Of course we'll get there someday. We aren't just going to drop right in the middle and quit. We're better than that."

She glances at him and asks, "You think so?"

"I know so." He gives her his brightest, best smile and adds teasingly, "After all, we both have excellent stamina."


End file.
